


The Agreement

by muzivitch



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-04
Updated: 2008-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzivitch/pseuds/muzivitch





	The Agreement

_**The Agreement | ChitoKura**_  
Title: The Agreement  
Author: Muzy  
Series: Prince of Tennis  
Pairing: ChitoKura  
Length: 1877 words

The after school tutoring sessions had been the result of some kind of brainstorm between his mother, his new teacher, and the principal at Shitenhouji, and Chitose had put forth what he considered a good effort - two entire tutoring sessions before he skipped out. The high school kid bringing him up to speed on the essentials would probably be on the hunt for him any minute now, he thought, so the best plan was to get the hell off the school grounds before the kid could sound the alarm.

It was the tennis court that stopped him.

He'd been staying away from it since he'd finally gotten a clean bill of health from the doctor; his vision might be pretty much normal again, the'd said, but Chitose wasn't ever going to be able to play tennis again. Too much damage. Not repairable. No more sports. Chitose walked forward, leaning against one of the support beams that braced the bleachers and crossed his arms over his chest. It was depressing as hell when he thought about it, he mused, so most of the time he pushed it to the back of his mind. That was a little more difficult when it was right in front of him.

He recognized the guy playing and the guy in the referee chair; they were both in the class across the hall. The one on the court with the bleached hair was Oshitari, he remembered, and the one lecturing him from the chair was Shiraishi, and the team's buchou from the looks of it.

"Your form's off," Shiraishi was saying as he gestured with that weird bandaged arm of his. Chitose suspected that there was nothing at all wrong with it. "I keep telling you, if you'd sign up for some yo..."

"Shiraishi," Oshitari interrupted. He propped one fist on his hip.

"Yes?" Shiraishi asked.

"If you mention yoga to me one more time, I'm going to tackle you in the showers and string you up with your underwear," Oshitari said is such a flat, matter-of-fact tone that Chitose laughed, and both of them turned to stare.

Chitose's lips quirked up in a lazy smile as all attention turned to him. "I hear yoga's good for mental focus," he said blandly. "I prefer meditation myself."

Shiraishi's eyebrows shot up. "Oh really?" he drawled. "Is that what you're doing in class whenever I happen to look over?"

Chitose sauntered forward and leaned his elbows on the chain-link fence that framed the court. His teeth flashed in a grin as he replied. "Nope," he said. "I'm sleeping in class."

Shiraishi snorted as he climbed off the chair. "Chitose, isn't it?" he asked. "You play tennis."

Something dark flickered in Chitose's eyes, but he just chuckled. "I used to play tennis," he corrected. "I don't anymore." He was pretty sure Shiraishi had an inkling of why too, Chitose thought. Junior tennis was a small world when it came down to that kind of thing.

"I heard that," Shiraishi said, confirming Chitose's suspicions. "But you want to."

Chitose smiled. "The best minds in the medical field say no," he said. "So I'll stick with watching, if you guys don't mind."

"Sure," Oshitari interrupted before Shiraishi could say anything else. "The tennis club doesn't really have much of a cheering section." The look he send Shiraishi was a warning, Chitose noted as he flopped onto the cold metal bench of the bleachers.

"You can watch me deflate our little genius's ego," Oshitari added. "Zaizen can be overly impressed with himself at the best of times. I'm Oshitari Kenya, by the way," he added and then pointed at Shiraishi. "He's Shiraishi Kuranosuke, our fearless leader."

Chitose grinned. "Chitose Senri," he said. "Nice to meet you."

It was too bad he wasn't playing anymore, Chitose thought. If these two were any evidence, Shitenhouji was a team he could have fit into, maybe even better than Shishigaku. His eyes scanned the courts and he lifted his eyebrows at a doubles pair that was definitely a pair. Yeah, he thought, he'd have had fun playing with this group.

*

"So what brought you over here?" Shiraishi asked much later.

Chitose looked up. The crowd had thinned out, he noted, and the sun was almost gone from the sky. He smiled slightly. "I was hiding. From my tutor."

"A tutor?"

"One of my mother's ideas to get me caught up again," Chitose said as he stretched to his feet, raising his arms over his head in one smooth movement as he worked the kinks out of his muscles. He grinned as he saw Shiraishi eying him with speculation. "What?"

"It's your eyes, isn't it?" Shiraishi said abruptly. "Can't be anything else. No awkwardness, and you aren't favoring anything.

Chitose paused and then shrugged. "Depth perception's all screwed up," he said briefly. "Apparently it's too dangerous to play without it."

"I imagine it would make things difficult." Shiraishi lifted his tennis bag and slid it onto his shoulder. "But you could work around it. Train yourself to compensate for it."

"Who's going to help me with that?"

"Me," Shiraishi said. "If you're interested, of course." He glanced up at Chitose, giving him a knowing look. "I already know you miss tennis."

"Yeah," Chitose said with a sigh, "and beyond that....I have some unflnished business to attend to. But it might not work."

"It will," Shiraishi said with confidence. "I'll help you," he said with a slight smile. Shiraishi had no illusions about their team; they were good and would sweep the Kansai regionals without a whole lot of problems, but beating Rikkai required something special, and you didn't get much more special than Chitose Senri. He just might take a little bit of convincing, Shiraishi thought; well, he was good at that.

Chitose glanced around the empty courts. "I'll think about it," he said.

But they both knew they had a deal.

*

It was late when they left the tennis court that night, as usual – they'd been practicing morning and night for weeks now. Shiraishi had a goal in mind, and Chitose was pretty single-minded himself when it came to this. More single-minded than he'd expected, Shiraishi mused as he slid his racket back into his tennis bag and tossed it over his shoulder. He hadn't known much about Chitose beyond his tennis when the other boy had transferred to Shitenhouji, but he'd been there long enough that Shiraishi felt he could make a few educated assumptions. A guy with Chitose's already legendarily bad attendance rate wasn't usually the type to work this hard on something for as long as they had – nearly a month now. So there was something else driving him, Shiraishi thought as he watched Chitose lean against the fence and stare up at the sky.

  
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, and Chitose started, turning his head to blink at him.

  
“You haven't asked me that before,” he said. A slight smile curled his lips.

  
Shiraishi shrugged. “No,” he said as he brushed his light hair back from his face. “I'm asking now, though.”

  
Chitose's teeth flashed white in a brief grin. “Right,” he said. “I told you before we started I had some unfinished business to handle.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
Chitose flicked a glance at Shiraishi. “With Tachibana Kippei.” It was kind of funny, he thought; he could actually see Shiraishi flicking through all the facts until he hit on the right one. “You've heard of him, I see.”

  
“He's the one you were playing that day,” Shiraishi replied, and a speculative look entered his eyes. “You're going to play him again.”

  
“Yeah,” Chitose said. “But not for the reason you think. It's not revenge or to prove myself or anything like that. I don't need to.”

  
Shiraishi leaned against the fence next to Chitose and crossed his arms over his chest. He raised his eyebrows. “Why then?” he asked.

  
Chitose opened his mouth to reply and then shut it again, shrugging his shoulders under the tunic he'd thrown over his teeshirt. “It's hard to explain,” he said. He rubbed a hand over his thick hair. “Kind of complicated,” he added as he looked over at Shiraishi. “Are you still going to work with me?”

  
“Sure,” Shiraishi and he watched with some curiosity as tension he hadn't even noticed before flowed out of the other boy. “But the rules need to change now.”

  
“How?” A wary look darkened Chitose's eyes.

  
Shiraishi didn't give him a straight answer right away. “Tachibana moved to Tokyo, you know,” he said. “He's buchou at a public school there – Fudomine.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Yeah. The best way to make him play you would be in a tournament setting.”

  
“You want me to join the Shitenhouji club,” Chitose observed, and Shiraishi's lips curved.

  
“You'll go sign up with Osamu tomorrow morning,” he said, “and I'll see you at practice tomorrow afternoon. You're ready for it now.”

  
“And if I don't?” Chitose said.

  
Shiraishi shrugged. “If you don't, then you must not want to play Tachibana that bad. You'll come to practice, or I'll stop helping you.”

  
The words hung in the night air for a long moment before Chitose tipped his head back and laughed. “Do you use threats with the rest of the club?”

  
Shiraishi tipped his head to one side, and fingered the bandage wrapping his arm. He smirked. “It works,” he said. “And keeping them in line requires...creativity.” He glanced up at Chitose. “So you'll be seeing Osamu tomorrow?”

  
Chitose inclined his head. “Yeah.”

  
“I thought you might,” Shiraishi said. “The two of you'll get along well.” The thought of it was faintly terrifying, he thought. “I'll see you tomorrow after school.”

  
Chitose hesitated a bare moment, and then nodded, and Shiraishi pushed away from the fence and turned to walk home. “Hey, Shiraishi,” Chitose said before the other boy had moved more than a few steps.

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Did I thank you for helping me yet?'

  
Shiraishi's eyes glinted with amusement. “No,” he said.

  
Chitose smiled and pushed his hair away from his face and stepped away from the fence, walking forward until the two of them stood next to each other. “Thank you,” he said.

  
Shiraishi lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You're welcome,” he said, and turned to go again.

  
“Hey, Shiraishi,” Chitose said again, and he grinned when he saw the other boy sigh almost imperceptibly. “Just one more thing. Turn around.”

  
“What...” Shiraishi managed before the rest was muffled as Chitose slanted his lips over his in a brief kiss. “What the hell?” he said after Chitose stepped back.

  
“That was it,” Chitose said as he slid his hands into his pockets. “I'll see you tomorrow,” he called out as he ambled off. “Just as ordered.”

  
Shiraishi stood and watched him until Chitose disappeared around the corner, and then blew out a breath. Chitose Senri was going to be hell to manage, he thought. His lips curved. “Tomorrow,” he murmured to himself. He looked forward to it.

  
He hadn't had a challenge in a while.


End file.
